


The Night the Doctor Danced (with her wife)

by flumen



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bisexual River Song, Bittersweet Ending, F/F, Gen, Sappy, Space Wives, but a great wingwoman, not much kissing but a lot of extended metaphors, pretty gay, stealing voltron aliens for space names, the doctor drinks fanta, yaz is a bad police officer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 05:53:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flumen/pseuds/flumen
Summary: One-shot: when the TARDIS gets post and John Smith is invited to an intergalactic charity gala (fair warning, there is no actual charity involved in this fic) the Thirteenth Doctor sees it as a good excuse to blow of some steam with her fam. She does not expect to run into an impossible, familiar face. And River really can't place where she's seen this northern woman before... purely self-indulgent and ended up getting way deeper than I wanted it to so heads up. Enjoy!





	The Night the Doctor Danced (with her wife)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after the New-Years special because I was bitten by the Doctor Who bug and couldn't stop thinking about 13 and River as space wives. As I said in the description, this kind of went down a weird, metaphorical route (because the Doctor amazes me) so there's not as much fluff as I'd like... but please enjoy and tell me what you thought!

“Alright then gang!” The Doctor exclaimed, rubbing her hands together eagerly. “Where to? Ancient Egypt? Quadrant 456? Ooo! How about Pluto! I heard they just made it a planet again, imagine that! Of course, eventually humanity’ll catch on and realise it’s actually a stray golf ball from the Giant’s solar system…” She sighed nostalgically. “That was a nice bank holiday weekend. Hardargian really did have a powerful swing.”

She was greeted by a weary silence. “Hello? Gang?”

Yaz gave a low moan. Her hair was a rumpled mess, bursting free from her usually immaculate plaits like spiders’ legs. Ryan was slumped against the console, murmuring nonsensically into the crystals. Graham was draped face-down across the stairs and all he could muster in response was a limp wave.

“Doctor, we’ve been travelling non-stop for days now.” Yaz complained. “We’re having fun, but could we not just take a rest?”

“Rest!” The Doctor said incredulously. “Rest? When you humans have such shockingly short lifespans and the whole universe is out there waiting for us?”

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, Doc,” Ryan said, voice slightly muffled. “But humans don’t have two hearts and can’t run on adrenaline alone.” His head shot up, eyes wide and haunted. “And we’ve been doing a lot of running. How about we just go for a Maccy D’s and call it a night?”

There was a general murmur of assent:

“Ooo, yeah Big Mac. It’s been ages since I’ve had a Big Mac.”

“You’ll split a McFlurry with me, right Doc? Let’s get Oreo and treat ourselves.”

“No, no, no!” The Doctor said, looking utterly appalled. “We’ve barely scraped the surface of intergalactic opportunities and you want a Sheffield McDonalds? Can we at least go sometime fun?”

“And eat chips made of space rocks?” Yaz snorted. “No thanks. Besides, there’s this one around my road and no other McDonalds in the universe can get their chips like they do there. They’re crispy but never oily and they’re fluffy in the middle-”

“Alright, alright, fine.” The Doctor relented, raising her hands in defeat. The rest of Team TARDIS rejoiced, suddenly full of energy again. “Go on then, what are the co-ordinates.”

Just as Yaz was about to give her the address, the TARDIS got post.

A flap in the door that everyone could swear had never been there before swung open and fell shut with a squeak and a clatter. An envelope hit the floor. Everyone in the room turned and looked at the door in silence.

“What was that?” Graham said eventually.

“Post.” Ryan said.

“Well, yes, but why does the TARDIS have post?”

“Well we got that package from Kerblam, didn’t we?” Yaz said. “Maybe this is another distress signal.”

“Maybe.” The Doctor said slowly with increasing interest. She hurried down the steps and crouched down by the envelope, giving it a quick once over with the sonic screwdriver. “Hmm, it’s not glowing so I doubt it’s radioactive…”

“That’s a possibility?” Ryan said nervously.

“Well no, not anymore because I can tell it isn’t glowing. Pay attention, Ryan.” Gingerly, she lifted the edge between her index finger and thumb and gave it a long, hearty sniff. There was a tense pause. Then, the Doctor burst excitedly to her feet. “Ooo! That’s nice paper! Yaz, get a whiff of that!” She shoved the envelope in her companion’s direction but she backed away, remembering what had just been said about radioactivity.

“Er, I’ll take your word for it.”

The Doctor was now gripping the thing with both hands and turning it like a squirrel with an acorn. “It’s addressed to John Smith, that’s me!, and the return address is the Intergalactic Confederation of Evil Crushing, Control, Reduction and Evaluation Advisory Matrix.”

“ICE CREAM.” Ryan said, deadpan.

“Yeah, isn’t that cute.” The Doctor beamed. “Everyone’s been too polite to point it out. Or maybe they know what it spells and just like watching us squirm. Basically they’re like the Space UN. They hold this big fancy fundraising party every century and it looks like I’m…” She unsheathed the letter from its envelope and quickly scanned the contents. “…invited!”

“No way! Like an intergalactic party!”

“Pretty much, yeah! But for charity.” She gave a long exaggerated sigh of despair. “But I guess we can’t go. I did say we’d be going to McDonalds…” She gave a sly smile as the rest of the team burst into denial. “But what about Yaz’s chips? They’re crispy but not oily-”

“Oh stop it, you want to go to the party too.”

The Doctor gave a little squeal and hugged the invite against her chest. “Yeah, I do! But none of us are going anywhere dressed like this.” She gestured disapprovingly to their shabby states. “We don’t want to show up to the classiest event of the century looking as if we were just stampeded by irritable Martian mongeese.”

“But Doctor we were.” Ryan reminded her.

“Yeah, but nobody else needs to know that. Now hop to it! Let’s take a look in the dressing up trunk!”

About an hour later, they were ready. Yaz was wearing a yellow dress and glowing, alien rock earrings. Her hair was half-up half-down, back to being immaculate. Ryan had found a navy tunic that looked as if it was embroidered with real gold thread and some silk trousers he described as ‘breathable’. Graham had dug out a classic, slightly boring old suit that everyone’s opinion improved of when the Doctor revealed it was worn by Abraham Lincoln the day before he died. The Doctor herself looked excited but slightly unfamiliar in a long red dress and a pearl necklace she claimed she’d been dying to wear after it was gifted to her by Queen Elizabeth, who she’d sort of kinda married it’s a long story. She kept almost tripping on the hem and gazing down at herself in foreign wonder.

“Not used to this.” She explained. “My past twelve regenerations have all been men with very restricted fashion sense. Still,” She attempted a twirl and had to be caught by Yaz before she collapsed down the steps. “I like it! Doesn’t it look cool! My legs have so much space!”

“Shouldn’t we get a move on?” Graham said anxiously. “Won’t we be late?”

“Gramps, it’s a time machine.” Ryan said. “We can’t be late.”

“Right. Sorry, I forget.”

“No, Graham’s got a point.” The Doctor said. “We all look fabulous and it’s time to get a wriggle on. Yaz, you are killing me in those heels.” She shot her companion finger guns as she moved to fiddle at the console. “Now, I want everyone to have fun! And check with me before you do literally anything.”

“Don’t say you’re gonna be babysitting us all night.” Ryan complained.

The Doctor scrunched up her nose. “Not babysitting… more like stopping you from consuming poison or offending any alien warlords. Some of them are awfully stuffy. I’d hate to lose one of my best friends to a Slitheen just because they mispronounced their home planet.” She peered at them from behind a crystal, having danced around to the other side of the TARDIS to twist buttons and flick switches. “Raxacoricofallapatorius, by the way.”

“Raxi what?”

“Exactly.” The Doctor said, pausing to boop Ryan on the nose as the time machine began to vworp. “We’ll have none of that. Just stick with me and we’ll have some proper fun, alright?”

“Sounds great.”

“Got it.”

“What does a Slitheen happen to look like? For future reference.”

“Ok.” The Doctor said confidently as she recognised the steadying sensation of the TARDIS touching down. “Let’s go gang.”

The alien party was, unsurprisingly, being held on a space ship. The room appeared like a giant ballroom only the walls were made of entirely what Yaz really hoped was reinforced glass and opened out into an inky void of stars and dusty far-off solar systems. The TARDIS landed on a red carpet just outside and the well-dressed aliens around them barely blinked an eye at their appearance.

“I reckon most teleported here anyway.” The Doctor explained. “The ICECREAM gala gathers aliens from all around the galaxy. You can’t expect them to hop into a shuttle, that’d take ages. Literally.”

All the Doctor had to do was flash her invite to a Sontaran bouncer, and a curtain was swept aside out onto the balcony of a great marble staircase that gazed down upon a glitzy sea of people. There was a stage opposite them, a vast proscenium arch encrusted in gold and drenched in velvet drapings. A band of squid creatures in white suits tooted and plucked at strange instruments, producing a soothing, jazzy sound that wasn’t earthly in a way the humans couldn’t quite place. There was a bar made entirely of glass and stretched almost 30 metres across, manned by at least five different aliens (each with a minimum of 3 arms) working in and out of each other with such speed and such a tangle of appendages that they were practically indistinguishable. Round tables covered in silk dotted the room and at the very centre there was a circular open dance floor where various couples, often interspecies, were waltzing, doing the fox-trot or Ryan swore he saw one dab.

“It’s beautiful.” Graham said in awe after they’d got drinks and were gathered around a table. “Anybody want to dance?”

“With our two left feet?” Yaz snorted gesturing to herself and Ryan. “Wait until I’m tipsy first.” She took a sip of her drink and hummed at the taste. “Doctor, what is this? I feel like I’m floating.”

“That right there is Yellmore saliva.” The Doctor said, taking a satisfied swig from her own cup. “A delicacy from the far-off regions of space.”

For a moment Yaz stared at the contents of her cup in disgust before wearily shrugging it off and taking another drink. “Oh well. When in Rome.”

“How about you Doc? Know any alien dances you can teach us on the fly?” Graham asked, having slid his own cup aside.

“Oh, you’d better believe it.” She said, miming rolling up her sleeves and beginning to stand. “Here’s a little jig I learnt on Falerium. It’s called the Rancor… hot… step…” She trailed off, eyes having caught on something across the room. Every single other part of her body seemed to slacken of energy as she stared in disbelief. “It can’t be.” She sounded choked. “It was supposed to be our last night, the final time I’d see her besides the library…” It almost looked as if she was crying; in reality her eyes were just swimming with so much wonder she looked as if she’d welled up.

“Who is it Doc?” Ryan asked urgently, placing a hand on her arm. “Who do you see?”

The Doctor looked gradually down from his hand to his face, suspended in a sort of stupefied slow-motion. Quietly, a wispy smile fluttered onto her face and she gave a breathless giggle. “Ryan… it’s my wife.”

For a second her friends only gaped at her. “She’s… she’s your what?” Yaz stuttered.

“River Song. My wife.” The Doctor repeated, and then smiled even wider as if the words were invigorating her. “Over there, in the long blue dress with the sequins… that’s my wife! Doctor River Song! This shouldn’t be happening!” She ducked suddenly and hastily down behind her chair, nothing but her eyes and nose peering over the edge. “I don’t believe it… I mean the whole matrimony thing is a little complicated, she was technically convicted of my murder, but River’s my wife!”

“I’m sorry, she what?!” Yaz demanded, now craning her neck to try and get a look. “She murdered you? Is this a wibbly wobbly timey wimey thing?”

“Where’d you learn to say that?”

“You mutter it in your sleep.”

“Huh. But oh no, it’s just a big old misunderstanding.” The Doctor flapped her off dismissively. “Ah the last time I saw her I was an irritable old Scotsman in a suit.” Gradually her ecstatic expression morphed into one of panic. “Oh God. What if she hates my new body?”

“I really think we’re glossing over the murder bit a little too quickly.” Yaz said, waving a hand across the Doctor’s eyes.

“I’m a woman now!” She continued, ignoring her. “Does she even like women?” She racked her brains for a moment. “Ah, wait no worries about that. She had that affair with a tree empress circa 3456.” Looking a little grumpy now, she tucked a strand of hair impatiently behind her ear. “I’m still not over that, even if she swore it was just to pinch the crown jewels. There was sap in her hair for months.”

“Is your wife a criminal?” Yaz demanded.

“Little bit of jail time, no biggie.” The Doctor said, impervious to Yaz’s scandalised expression. “Ryan, you’re young and hip. Do I look old?”

Ryan looked more dazed than hip but he scrambled to reassure her. “What? No! Not a day over 30.”

“But what about my eyes? Do my eyes look old?”

“Er…” Ryan didn’t really know how to respond to that. “Maybe?”

“Ugh, I knew it, she’s always going on about my old eyes. And this is my oldest regeneration yet… not to mention the first time in 13 I haven’t been a bloke. What if she thinks that’s weird? She’s not a full time lord! I’m a full time lord and it’s weird to me!”

“Not a full time lord?” Graham repeated.

“Oh, well technically she’s the daughter of two of my old companions, Amy and Rory Pond.” She smiled fondly and a little painfully at their names. “Ah good old Ponds. But she was exposed to the heart of the TARDIS in the womb so now she’s part Time Lord. Needless to say, regeneration meant there was a period of time when I didn’t even know she was her.”

“So identity theft, literal theft and attempted murder, right.” Yaz muttered to herself.

“Well she looks lovely, Doc. You should go talk to her.” Graham encouraged.

She did look lovely, the Doctor observed, but then again she couldn’t recall a time she hadn’t. River Song was in a tight, glittering blue ballgown. Her hair was in its typical curls and pinned back from her face with jewelled pins. Every now and again she’d laugh at the joke of some alien bureaucrat and the Doctor would get a glimpse of her face, glowing and perfectly made up. She was as beautiful as she’d seen her last and the time before that, shining and vivacious in her element.

“I want to, Graham.” She said and she couldn’t keep the longing out of her voice. “But I don’t know if I could. No, scratch that, I’m not sure if I should.” She rubbed a hand against her forehead, feeling a little sick and very tired. “This is utterly unprecedented. We had our last night, by all rights I should never have seen her again!”

“But you have now! And you’re both here.” Ryan coaxed. “That’s got to be for a reason right?”

“I guess so…” The Doctor said softly. The image of River was glittering in her vision like a ghost. Could this be a dream? The Doctor didn’t often dream and when she did it was always important. So it didn’t matter if it was a dream, the repercussions could still be real. Repercussions, ripples across space-time… could she risk that all for the sake of seeing her wife again? Her last memory of her had been blissfully happy, that night on Darillium. Why spoil it with a potential paradox? She’d probably not even know it was her if she hadn’t recognised 12… But there was always a chance she had found a fluke, a little pleasurable loophole in their destinies. This had to be an in-between time, perhaps after their night but before… well before it all became irreparable.

“Doctor?” Yaz said from her side, wrenching her back to reality as she blinked the stars from her eyes. “That’s your criminal wife over there, right?”

“Yes… it is.”

“So I could arrest her in the name of Sheffield police right here and now if I wanted to.” She smiled. “Or, in the name of a friend, I could ask you what you’re waiting for.” The Doctor gazed up at her in awe. “What? The universe has given you another chance. Don’t argue with it. We’ll behave ourselves. Just go.”

She looked from Yaz to Ryan to Graham. Each of them looked up at her with sympathetic encouragement. She felt one of her hearts bolster and the other tug all the more achingly in the direction of River Song.

“Alright.” She decided to a gentle applause. “I’ll go. Wish me luck! She could very well slap me.” With as much confidence as she could muster, she strode towards her wife.

Luckily for her, River had just finished up a conversation and floated towards the bar. Her long red nails idly trilled against the glass surface and her eye lashes fluttered around the room, hoping for someone new and influential-looking to catch her eye. Instead she was approached by a very smiley, purposeful northern woman. She lifted a hand to wave and immediately tripped on the edge of her dress, recovering by slamming a hand against the bar.

“Hiya!” She said cheerfully with a little bit of strain. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’d never turn down a free drink.” River replied indulgently, a little perplexed but eyeing the woman’s very nice pearl necklace with interest. She was fairly sure she didn’t know this woman, she was pretty and forward enough that River doubted she’d forget, but she was also oddly familiar in a somewhat painful way. Oh well. Everything about her screamed loaded eccentric. She’d wait and see how this went.

“Daibazaal martini. On the rocks.” River gave the bar tender a wink and he blushed such a bright green he was luminous. The woman gave a disgruntled hum and River remembered who was paying. “What’ll you have?” She recovered with her most dazzling smile.

“Just a Fanta for me.” She said, still sounding a little irked but perfectly polite. “Don’t drink and pilot.” She explained to River, sliding a few coins across the bar.

“That’s an Earth drink.” She noted, scanning the woman up and down. Goodness she was nice looking, it was a little hard to focus. “Are you a human?”

“Oh no but I holiday there a lot.” She said and River got the feeling that was an inside joke.

A few moments later the bar tender returned with their drinks. The mystery woman cracked open her Fanta and gave a long, echoy slurp. “So, how have you been?”

The Doctor felt this was going very well. They were drinking, joking, dare she say flirting? Heck it was practically a first date! Did it count as a first date if you were technically married but in a new body? The only problem was, besides what she thought were a few glints of recognition here and there, River did not appear to recognise her at all! Plus it was beginning to drive her insane standing so close to her wife without said wife even realising it was her… wife? That was going to be tricky to get used to. Slowly but surely the whole situation was becoming maddening.

Meanwhile River was having a nice, if bizarre, time. Her companion was very cultured, quick-witted and despite not being as rich as she’d anticipated, she described herself as a traveller which was not a good sign (read: homeless hitchhiker), she remained enticingly familiar. Where in the universe did she know her from?

The conversation was beginning to draw to its natural conclusion and their drinks were dwindling. The Doctor began to feel more desperate as River’s attention, like a magpie with a shiny object, began to falter and her gaze once more resumed its roaming. They had had a nice conversation, a tiny voice murmured insistently in the back of her head, she could call it a night and return to her team with one last happy memory under her belt. However, deeper down she knew that she could never spend the rest of her life having come this tantalisingly close but never revealed who she was. The Doctor had never been able to stand being unsatisfied and as herself, this was no different.

Plus there was always the risk that if she didn’t say something, Yaz would whip out the handcuffs and arrest River on the spot. No, definitely best not to risk it.

“Well,” River said with finality. “It’s been lovely chatting with you, um…”

“It’s not important.” The Doctor lied. It was now or never. River was beginning to sidle away. What would she even say?

“Thanks for the drink.” River patted her hand and turned to resume the hunt. “Bye bye!”

It came to her in a flash. “Goodbye, sweetie.”

River Song froze. An odd numbness pervaded her fingertips, her toes, as if the blood was being drawn back into her heart, beating so hard she was surprised it didn’t burst right out of her chest. Had she heard that right? Could it just be a coincidence? Some twisted trick? Slowly, she turned around.

Goodness now the Doctor felt cruel. River looked as if she’d seen a ghost which, to all intents and purposes, she had.

“Are you-” She broke off as if what she was trying to say was too foolish to verbalise. The woman standing across from her said nothing, her face a placid mask of caution. “You’re not… one of his assistants are you?”

From the way she said it, the Doctor knew River didn’t really mean it. She just couldn’t compute the truth, couldn’t believe it. She knew how she felt. None of it felt real. It probably didn’t help that she was a woman. Blimey, that was turning out to be mighty troublesome.

She shook her head. “Of course not, River. You know I never tell them about you.”

“Doctor.” She said in a rush of air, as if it had to burst out or it’d never be said at all. “Is it… is it actually?”

The Doctor nodded.

“It’s really you?” River laughed, her eyes welling up. She took another long look at the Doctor and then laughed again, a crackling burst of delight like a firework.

“In the flesh. Well… sort of.” The Doctor said, beginning to giggle herself. Relief flowed through her like a pain killer. She knew it was her, she recognised her, she was laughing! “Sorry it took so long honey, traffic was awful- oof!”

River had yanked her into a tight embrace and was sobbing into her shoulder. It was a bit of a disconcerting situation actually, since every other time they’d embraced the Doctor had been taller, but she soon adapted, wrapping her arms around her back and resting her hands securely against the nape of her neck. Her nostrils were flooded with the scent of River, which was always a new perfume but somehow always smelt the same against her skin, and it was a battle to stop her own eyes from stinging into her curls.

When they drew apart, River cupped her wife’s face in her hands. “Look at you!” She whispered a little throatily. “Oh I know you said it might happen but I never really thought…”

“To be honest neither did I.” The Doctor admitted. “But now I think it’s pretty brilliant being a girl again. What do you think? Like the new me?”

“Sweetie you have never been so gorgeous.” River promised with great conviction. Her eyes roamed wildly from her body up to her face before settling on her lips. “Speaking of…”

“Oh. Right.” The Doctor said. “Silly me. Let me just-” And she pulled her into a kiss.

“Get in!” Ryan whooped back with the rest of team TARDIS.

“Finally.” Yaz rolled her eyes. “I thought she was never going to do it. I thought I’d have to use the tazer.”

“You didn’t actually bring a tazer to a charity gala.” Graham said but without much surety.

“The Doctor brought her sonic. I wasn’t going to be unarmed.” Was her only explanation.

Back with the Doctor, they finally broke apart. “I’d missed that.” She whispered.

“You’re so northern.” River said in wonder. “And I’m glad to see your kissing hasn’t changed.”

“That is one thing regeneration doesn’t touch. That and the fact that I am a genius.”

“And married.” River added, enjoying the tiny flush that dusted the Doctor’s face. Oh she was just adorable. “Please tell me that’s untouchable.”

“I mean we’re here, aren’t we?” The Doctor said, gripping one of her hands. She felt warm and miraculously real. “We’re together again, against every law in space and time. _We’re_ untouchable.”

River kissed her again, hard, trying to imprint the memory of her onto her lips. Untouchable… it was a bold declaration to make and she hoped to heaven and back it was true. But just in case… just in case this was the last time she didn’t want to let herself forget even a second of it. She wanted to recall the feel of her, the tangibility of her touch and taste. She had once compared loving the Doctor to loving the stars and it was. She was such a mythic figure that in the long months, years even that River spent alone it was easy to forget she wasn’t some sort of distant god, to be seen, experienced but never held onto. It became hard to understand why she could possibly love her back.

But she did. It was in her smile, her eyes (old eyes but shining all the same), the way she kissed her back, hard, and let go with an agonised reluctance. The Doctor was a mythic figure but she was not a god. She was filled with more humanity than humans themselves. She was shatteringly imperfect, devastatingly raw and she loved like a fire. She loved like a fire to light the path she walked, the cold dark lonely one, well-trod and wrought with inevitabilities. It was easy to forget that beneath the intellect, the chipper wit, the mythic figure, the Doctor was just a mortal being that had somehow surpassed all others in the universe and that was a solitary, cold thing to be. So why shouldn’t she love River back, one of the few who tried to reach her? Without love, she’d freeze. Without love, she’d be blind.

Loving the Doctor was painful. It was like loving the stars… But being loved by the Doctor was even worse. Because to the Doctor, you were a star: a far-off pinprick of warmth and light that inevitably burnt up before her very eyes. What kind of life was that? What kind of lonely life? So she loved you like fire and even after you were gone from the sky, you never stopped burning within her. You were what lit that dark, lonely path. If the Doctor loved you, you never stopped loving her.

“Care for a dance?” She said and they were whirling onto the dance floor before River could even reply.

“I’m very mad at you after the whole, this is the last night and we only have tonight.” River assured her, wrapping one hand around hers and the resting the other on her waist. “Except you’re a lot harder to slap in this body.”

“Great isn’t it?” The Doctor said as they began to waltz, and it only gave River some satisfaction that she had to look up to meet her gaze. “People keep calling me _madam_. Doesn’t that sound nicer than **sir**? _Madam_ , please don’t go into that restricted government lab. _Madam_ , please don’t stick your sonic up my nose.”

“ _Madam_ , you’re out of time. Stop talking and dance with me.”

They danced the rest of the night away. The Doctor didn’t stop talking but eventually her feet caught up with her and she managed to do both. River met her new tag-alongs, fam as she repeatedly referred to them, and tried not to feel replaced. The Doctor had promised they were untouchable. What could she do but take her word for it?

The next morning the sky outside was still black but the party had died down to its embers. At midnight the head of ICECREAM had made a speech about the money raised and all the good it would do and River thought the assumption had been that everyone would then filter out, reassured that their evening of dancing and fine drinks had been for a cause. The Doctor didn’t leave. She and her wife slow-danced until the bar shut down and the music had fizzled out. Outside the stars continued to wink and the Doctor felt as if she was suspended amongst them, suspended in time like a pendulum mid-swing. She didn’t want the clock to start ticking again. For the first time in her long life, she was tired of time.

“You’re the Lord of it sweetie.” River had reminded her when she’d told her this. “Or the Lady now, I suppose.”

“Then why won’t it do as I say?” The Doctor replied, unable to keep the impatience out of her voice. “Why won’t it slow down? Always in a rush, never any time to rest. I don’t want to leave you again.” Her voice filtered out into an echo. They stopped dancing. River fought to keep her heels upright on the marble floor.

“We’ve tempted fate enough for one night, darling.” She sighed, sounding a lot calmer than she felt and propping up the Doctor’s chin so she looked her in the face. “I can see it in those old eyes. You know we’re not meant for forever. We may be untouchable, but we’re never steady.”

“The likes of us aren’t made for steady.” She agreed, sinking a hand into River’s curls and feeling the warmth of her skull. It seemed unreal that such a mind fit into there, that a whole wonderful, impossible person could be so concentrated. “But when we meet we’re always beautiful.”

“You’re always beautiful. If regeneration’s a lottery, you’ve got the winning tickets.”

“What, even big chin? I’d never say it to his face but I’ve always found it a little unfair it was him who got to marry you.”

“Even big chin. Perhaps you don’t remember, he was actually very charming.”

“I remember feeling very foolish. You got the best of me like that.” The Doctor’s nose wrinkled at the memories. It was a little unsettling recalling things through a different person’s eyes. There were a lot of ‘ding dong!’s and fezes in there.

“Sweetie, you’ve always had all of me. And you always will.” There was a pause in the air between them. Gently, the Doctor reached up and pressed a feather-light kiss against River’s cheekbone.

“If the next time you see me I don’t recognise you,” She said, linking their hands as she drew back. “Remember that. Remember there’ll be a me somewhere out there who’s always your wife. There’s an us out there that’s untouchable.”

River gathered up her hands in her own and pressed her lips against them. “And if I never see you again as you, I want you to know this has been the greatest night of my life.”

“Greater than Darillium? I didn’t think I was that bad.”

“Greater than Darillium. You never danced with me on Darillium. I love you, Doctor.”

The Doctor beamed and brushed a tear from River’s cheek. “I love you too, River Song. I always will.”

The pendulum swung back into place and it carried on swinging.

“Take care of her for me.” River told Ryan, Yaz and Graham. “She’s got no self-control. That’s what she needs you for.”

“Will do Dr Song.” Graham assured her. He couldn’t help but think of Grace as he looked at the Doctor and her wife saying goodbye. It was never fair when love was torn apart like that.

“Of course, madam.” Yaz swore. She didn’t understand this woman or how she worked with the Doctor but she knew her duty.

“I’ll try my best.” Ryan said, struck by the enormity of it all. The most extraordinary person in the universe needed him, a kid with dyspraxia and daddy issues. Then again, the Doctor had never doubted there was more to him than that. He just had to keep on travelling with her until he could see it too.

The last goodbye River gave was to the TARDIS after the Doctor and her team had gone inside. You beautiful blue box, she thought as her hand trailed across the thrumming door, don’t hesitate to find me if you need me. Or if you just get tired of such a shoddy pilot, that’s fine too. She couldn’t quite tell but she thought she heard the ship whir with delight.

The door swung open and the Doctor stuck her head out. “Before you leave.” She said, panting slightly and placing something into River’s hand. “I took a look in the dressing up trunk and found you something.”

It was a ring, a plain gold band, in no way ostentatious which if River was being honest she had never really seen as either hers or the Doctor’s style. Still, she felt her heart pang as she slid it onto her finger. “Little nicer than a bowtie.” The Doctor winked. “But I didn’t want it to be too obvious. You don’t mind, do you? You wouldn’t want a ruby the size of a golf ball?”

“Doctor, it is perfect.”

“Keep it hidden, keep it safe. It shouldn’t mean much but I thought something about our marriage could be conventional.”

“Fly away now, you wonderful woman.” River said, pressing a kiss against the ring. “And dream we meet again.”

With a last wistful look, the door to the TARDIS swung shut and River backed away to watch it fade and hear that terrible screaming of brakes that she had long associated with both hellos and goodbyes.

An hour later, one of the bar tenders found her standing there still. “Is everything all right madam? Do you need a ride home?” He asked in a sympathetic but jaded voice. She imagined he wasn’t unused to those people that clung on too long after a party.

“I’m afraid both my ride and my home just left.” She sighed. “So I’ll be on my way. Goodbye, sweetie” In a flash she was gone, and soon the entire ship was devoid of life. It was as if the night had never happened and as far as the universe was concerned, it hadn’t.


End file.
